Victor Frankenstein (Paul McGuigan, 2015)

Now this is good, silly, OTT fun. A joyful romp that riffs on the many Frankenstein films from the last 80 years, this new film should not be taken as a serious adaptation of Mary Shelley’s work (which is rather dull anyway), but rather as an attempt to revise the story into a more modern aesthetic while retaining a love for what’s gone before (including a delightful nod to Mel Brook’s 1974 spoof). In fact any references to Shelley’s work are minimal, almost entirely limited to the phrase “Modern Prometheus.” Originally titled Igor, a character invented by Universal, this film is as much a bromance between Radcliffe’s hunchback clown/part-time medic and James McAvoy’s electric, manic, saliva-spitting scientist. Indeed the film’s neatest twist on a well worn narrative is to shift the focus away from the creature and towards the creators and how their activities might go down in Victorian London (not the Geneva of the novel), where they gain the attention of Scotland Yard’s Inspector Turpin (Andrew Scott). Throw in a little hunchback on acrobat romance and some terrific sets and compositions and you’re left with a film that is entirely un-serious but has great narrative drive and some terrific set pieces, the highlight being when an early creation, called Gordon, charges through a medical college. The final act even manages to stage a sequence that feels familiar to fans of monster movies, but sufficiently different to entertain.

There are plot-holes and many questions left unanswered, but live with the contrivances and you can soak up the atmosphere and McAvoy’s energy – no scene is left unchewed as he rampages through the film. Radcliffe continues to create a sound distance between himself and The Boy Who Lived and good-old Charles Dance turns up to lend support. This however may be the kiss of death on the film at the box-office. His appearance can be problematic in Hollywood films – but this deserves a better reception than Last Action Hero, Alien 3, China Moon, Space Truckers, Your Highness…